Ollerus SS
by ChaosGamer
Summary: "It was a race against his most formidable adversary; he needed to reach Mímisbrunnr before his rival could do so. If he failed here, he would not be able to obtain the title of being a Magic God. For this goal he had pursued diligently for majority of his life. And he was determined not to let anything get within his way." Oneshot.


Strays.

Every town had one. They slunk around at night, and shied away from humans, away from civilization, feeding on vermins, engaging in fights with other animals, tripping trash cans over, and living out of sight. It was out of survival instinct. They were not domesticated, and thus lived differently from other pets.

However, every group had an oddball.

An animal that was treated lowly by others would logically shy away from them. Not this feline. He approached the very people that shooed them away on daily basis, looking for acceptance, from someone, somewhere. And largely due to his appearance he was often denied of contact.

His front left paw was badly bent, perhaps from birth, perhaps from an accident. Due to this, he had to adjust his center of gravity by constantly limping. He only had one eye, having a slack lid with an empty hole on his other socket. His right ear looked like it was sliced off by a crude weapon, and he had a stub for his tail. His fur was constantly was dirty, sometimes wet and sticky. Abused and malnourished.

Understandably, people gave him no chance whatsoever. People threw various objects at the kitten once they saw him approaching. Children sprayed hoses on him for fun. Even still he would try to approach them, on the hopes that there would be at least one person who decided to take the chance to hold him in their arms in love. He never did try to retaliate against the attacks from others. He silently stood still, taking on all the thrown objects and sprayed liquid to his body, not resisting, without aggression. If he saw someone approaching him he would immediately run toward them, trying to snuggle their legs, and maybe even lick their faces once they lifted him into their arms. But, what are the chances of that happening? His odd attitude toward strangers in comparison to other tomcats, coupled with his hideous appearance only led to additional abuse.

* * *

><p>Majin.<p>

As beings with an ability to literally rewrite reality with 'phases', they were the true monsters within the Magic Side. One could say that becoming one was the entire goal of the magical community, the ability to have incomprehensible power at their disposal.

And one man was very close to obtaining this legendary power.

His mission here was perhaps the most important endeavor he would ever undertake in his life. A chance that only came once every 10,000 years. It was a race against his most formidable adversary; he needed to reach Mímisbrunnr before his rival could do so. If he failed here, he would not be able to obtain the title of being a Magic God. For this goal he had pursued diligently for majority of his life. And he was determined not to let anything get within his way.

Until he heard a noise.

A cry of a wounded animal.

_No... not today._ he silently closed his eyes while sprinting to his destination. _Not today, please-_

He had to ignore it, otherwise his rival would reach the lake first. He had no time to pay attention to anything else. He had no obligation to pay attention to anything else. His dream was at his fingertips. Why stop here?

...

...

Yet, his footsteps slowed to a halt.

"..."

Quickly he moved toward the source of the noise, only to discover a pair of wolves mauling at a dark tiny kitten. Its legs and back was twisted in a wrong way, and a gaping tear was running down upon its side.

"Shoo! Shoo!"

Using violence against the wolves would be meaningless, as it would be no different from what they did. Scooping the kitten up with his hands he hurried around for the nearest hospital. Having traveled across the world for most of his years, he was not overly familiar with location of any places. Time was of an essence.

The kitten struggled while wheezing within his arms. As he had no choice but to carry it in discomforting fashion, more damage was being inflicted upon the wounded creature. He could not heal the kitten, as he had no experience within magic related to the treatment of animals.

However, in the midst of its suffering, the kitten itself reached up, and licked the side of Ollerus' face.

Even while it was subjected to pain, and even while it had no reason to show any love toward the world, the kitten itself strove for affection from the one carrying himself. Its one yellow eye was turned toward his face, and a distinct purring emanated from its throat. Never once did it try to flee from him, or tried to harm him. The kitten only showed love.

A sense of awe washed over Ollerus as he began to learn something from this injured animal something that all the grimoires within the world would not be able to teach. Not even the position of being a Magic God would be able to teach him about this form of giving and compassion.

...

In the end, he was able to find a hospital on time.

The kitten himself, however, only lived for a bit longer.

And, he had missed the chance to become a Magic God.

Was it worth it?

...

"He says that he has always regretted it and if he was in the situation again, there is no guarantee he would do the same thing again. However, he still says that he truly thought that was the best thing to do at the time." - Silvia


End file.
